hs_olympics | BONUS ROUND 1

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bonus round

BONUS ROUND 1

Bonus Round 1

Genre-Mixing

Hey, shippers! Welcome to your very first bonus round proper--we hope you have lots of fun with it! This time around we're going to be asking you to mix it up a little--each fanwork posted for this round will be a mish-mash of two different genres, blended together in a delightful incestuous slurry to create an UNSTOPPABLE CREATIVE CONCOCTION--er. Or. Something.

Yeah, we're genre-mixing. That's what we're doing this round.

Rules

Submit prompts! Prompts should consist of two different genres and one ship. This cannot be your team's ship! These are worth 5 points each, for a maximum of 100 points per team.

Look through the prompts and fill whichever you like!

You may not fill prompts for your ship, nor may you fill your own team's prompts.

Fills should be posted as replies to the prompts which they are for, following the format below. They may be any medium.

Title Format
If you are starting a new thread, please use this format in your title.

Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

If you are filling a prompt, use this format in your title.

Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team YOU belong to; please use the characters and quadrant, not whatever portmanteau or nickname you've come up with.
If your team name is not in this format and in the title we cannot guarantee that it will be counted.

Posts not using this format in the title will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, no matter what they contain. They, like all comments on the comm, are subject to the Wank Policy.

Scoring
For prompt posts: 5 points each (maximum of 100 per team)

For fills (as stated here):
First 5 entries in each post: 30 (per entry)
Entries 6-10 in each post: 20 (per entry)
Entries 11-15 in each post: 10 (per entry)
Entries 16+ in each post: 5 (per entry)

All scored content must be created/assembled new for this round.

If you have any questions, please ask them at the FAQ post here, or email them to us (homestuck.shipping at gmail). Otherwise, we cannot guarantee that we will see them in a timely fashion!

Page 106 of 146

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Dave <3 Rose
I'm thinking medieval times and satire

Vriska <3 Tavros

Badly written seducing scene + fairies

Wow, dark stuff really suits these two. Nice work!

Amazing.

Aww, how adorable! Thank you~

OH GOODNESS YES I LOVE YOU.

An apparition resolved out of the smoke in the Countess Lalonde's parlor. It was grey-skinned, and roughly in the shape of a man, albeit one who would only come up to Rose's chin if she hadn't been slumped in her chair. It had two pairs of horns in bright oranges and yellows which she found faintly nauseating, and eyes that crackled with blue and red light.

It was enough to make even Rose consider foreswearing her vices, but she decided to give the creature the benefit of the doubt.

"your entiire paradiigm ii2 hor2e droppiing2, lalonde."

Rose bit her lip, for it would not do to lose her composure to a hallucination in her own home.

"Exactly what I requested," she said, correcting her posture now that she had a guest. "I was just telling myself that it wasn't enough, running daily through a gauntlet of men who only know enough to say 'brilliant, but not ingenious--certainly not the innovator her mother was' and expect tenure or something for it. I was just looking into self-flagellation, in fact. But now--"

A short series of hiccups interrupted her, but she pressed on. "But now the only reliable escape from this futility has gifted me with something worlds better: a grey skinned little man with a lisp. And horns."

"ro2e," he said. She straightened up in a less sarcastic manner, despite herself. The way he said her name felt, uniquely, solid. "you know iim riight. dont tell me youre not fru2trated wiith what2 beiing done wiith the2e machiine2. they were never meant two be u2ed only two crunch number2 or balance ledger2."

The countess's skepticism was momentarily overwhelmed by a swell of relief at hearing another's voice repeat her thoughts. "It is true," she said. "I've made the gears turn more efficiently, and I've made the clocks most precise. And who doesn't love time well kept and sums quickly tabulated?" She meant to let out a dry ha, but the chemicals turned it to something approaching a giggle, much to her distress. "You know, all I ever dream of these days is smashing them."

By way of illustration, she took her pipe and started swinging it like a croquet mallet. The lights in her immaterial guest's eyes blinkered at the display, nonplussed. "I take a hammer to every cog in every machine that's based on my designs. In my dreams, you see, I can conjure some very small hammers."

She replaced her pipe and took a long drag before continuing. "So yes. I am frustrated. I know the difference engine can do more, but I don't know what. It is natural that this would start to wear on one, apparently to the point where one would converse with her hangover-to-be about it."

The spirit bristled a bit at that, the edges of its form briefly curling back into smoke before recoalescing, but it responded as if ignoring the remark. "ro2e, youre a geniiu2 and you know iit. of course you know WHAT two do wiith the engiine. you ju2t dont know how. ii can help wiith that, iif youll let me." It folded its hands behind its back.

"A flatterer, too?" she said, her cool tone barely suggesting that the apparition had her interest. "Well, you're not wrong, but, what's your point? What does a specter know about analytical engines, anyway?"

"ii'm not a 2pecter, ro2e." It said, its eyes strobing. It began to pace; the countess supposed that, her guest being insubstantial, she didn't have to worry about it scuffing the floor. "ii'm a troll. the anciient patron of the miind, or more 2peciifiically iit2 potential and power2. 2omeone el2e 2natched up the domaiin of voliitiion, whiich mean2..."

The troll stopped, and Rose realized that her eyes had lost focus. She attempted to concentrate, figuring that she owed the troll the courtesy of her attention. The effort was briefly interrupted by her attempt at a mental calculus of etiquette. Was she being rude ignoring her guest, or was it rude for having barged in at the middle of the night, therefore excusing her from the difficulty of focusing owing to her indisposed state? And how could she factor that he was, presumably, only there as a result of said state?

She waved the questions off, irritated at herself; etiquette was a game, and this was serious. The troll began to speak again.

"my poiint ii2 thii2. ii wa2 born two do thii2 2tuff, but iit wa2nt po22iible untiil thii2 age. perhap2 iit wiill be diifferent iin the tiime two come, but untiil then ii am on the briink of 2tarvatiion."

Far from his earlier pacing, the troll was standing dead still, back bent, arms crossed. "ro2e, ii can only talk two you becau2e youre a poet2 daughter. and ii only want two becau2e youre, ah." The lights in his eyes had dimmed, and now they were almost pitch black.

"who you are, ii 2uppo2e." A few motes of red and blue sputtered from his eyes. "a 2ciientii2t."

The countess bit her lip. "A poet's daughter? Well, I would rather be la belle dame sans merci, but..." Her own voice faltered; perhaps the troll's mood was infectious, she thought. Perhaps.

The troll's body began to fade, and a red-hot jolt ran through Rose's nerves at the sight. "Wait. Please." It felt like there had been a frog in her throat her entire life, and it had finally been cleared out, or at least made mild, by that jolt. "We can help each other."

Later, she would reflect on how even that was the most vulnerable she'd allowed herself to be in years. But, as she said the words, she did not know what about them made her fear and hope like nothing else had since she'd put the final gear in her first machine and prayed for it to spin the way she wanted.

At the time, she supposed it was the drugs.

"Just--tell me your name," she said into the silence that followed. "If trolls have names, that is."

The countess prided herself on the inscrutability she'd schooled into her face, and therefore found herself abjectly pitying the troll as his jaw slackened and his eyes lit up at the question, dancing wildly between red and blue. Everything she had experienced and more, she saw all too plainly in the dumbfounded look on her guest's face.

"2ollux," he said, at length. "iim 2ollux."

She considered this. "What a cruel name," she said, "for a man with a lisp."

"ii know, lalonde."

"I suppose you would." She approached him, hands clasped in front of her. "Now...what are you suggesting, exactly?"

"ju2t watch my eyes." They began to flash again, alternating between red and blue in a rhythm she found impossibly entrancing. "one2 and zero2, lalonde..."

---

She awoke, finally, but did not leave her home until she'd filled an entire book with hastily written notes.

After that night, she forsook the needle, the pipe, and even (largely) the bottle, and she never saw him again. But in every click of the gears she heard the hiss of his voice; their teeth were his teeth, and the results they delivered were as surprising and delightful as the lights of his eyes. Her waking life was devoted to taking clockwork as far as her genius and his inspiration would allow, but in her dreams she saw a grey man before her, whose eyes were hollow and whose skin was smoke, and she inhaled.

You hear the first stirrings of it whilst in Math. Low moans ooze their way up through the floor and tittering breaks out over the whole class. Dave smirks and you roll your eyes at him, which prompts a shrug.

After a few moments there’s silence again, until once more the moans swell up, louder and more insistent. It sounds like several people at least. This time people are less ready to laugh. A couple of them glance at the floor in concern. The sound doesn’t die. It grows. And it’s not just below you any more; you can hear it coming from outside too.

“What the…” Your teacher strides over to the windows and looks out. There’s a general scramble to follow suit, and you land yourself a decent spot on top of a chair, peering over everyone’s heads.

At first you’re not sure what you’re seeing. It slowly becomes clear that it’s a group of people shuffling into the building. They’re moving strangely and their gait is off, but as you look closer you see that’s far from the strangest thing about them. Their skin is sallow and seems to hang off them, and their mouths hang open, constantly emitting that eerie moan.

You’re concerned, but not really frightened. This changes when you see the deputy principal walking out to stop the horde of strangers and watch the one in the lead rip his arm off and take a bite out of it.

Screaming breaks out immediately. Several people shriek and run for the door. When they open it there’s a loud “grahhggg!” and you see a boy you’ve known since elementary dragged out of the classroom. Blood spatters everywhere and another person is lost to the gaggle before the teacher reaches the door and shoves it shut. As she does so one of the more enterprising zombies manages a nip of her arm.

She leans against the door, breathing heavily.

“Jade,” Dave mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

“Mm?” You’re watching her for any movement. While the rest of the class mill round in confusion your mind is racing. Your phone buzzes and you fish it out to see a text from John: "jade! are you okay?"

“I think she’s turning into a zombie,” Dave says. “Yeah, she’s definitely turning into a zombie.”

He’s right. She’s swaying and her attempts to corral the class are becoming increasingly slurred. Kids are beginning to back away from her.

You share a glance. Both of you know what needs to be done.

“Okay! Guys!” You bellow. “Get away from her! She’s infected!”

Slowly they comply, moving into the furthest corner of the room. You glance around for a weapon but Dave’s already there, picking up the stick you use to open the high windows. He hefts it in his hands and a moment later the teacher starts lumbering forwards. She moves towards him but he swings in one easy blow and knocks her to the floor.

You prod her. Yep, she’s unconscious.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it’s Rose.

"Apparently the scare stories were right. Wait, I’m the only one who will understand that reference since I’m apparently the only one who watches the news. We’re in English Literature – Room 41 – with Terezi, Kanaya and Eridan. We have a good barricade and are devising a plan. Come and meet us."

You show it to Dave and he nods. “Sounds good. We bringing these chumps?”

“We can’t leave them. Hey! Everybody!” They turn to face you. “Dave and I are going to the English rooms! You can come with us if you want!”

One of the louder kids shakes their head. “I’m not going outside this room until it’s safe.”

There’s a murmur of agreement and you shrug. You grab your stuff and a chair to use as a weapon, get everyone to clear back from the door then slip out into the corridor.

Dave swings his improvised club in a wide arc, knocking away a swathe of zombies, then you push past them and run. The school is strangely empty once you’ve got through the initial knot of the undead.

“There’s a gun in the principal’s office,” you pant as you run. “We might be able to break in and take it.”

“Worth a try,” he says.

You run into another group of zombies before reaching the stairs. Your chair catches one square in the face. You leap over the body and keep running.

As expected, the Principal’s office is locked. You ram a shoulder into it, but to no avail.

“Jade!” Dave is crouched over a body, but he stands as you turn to face him, holding a set of keys.

“What is it-”

“You don’t want to see.” He starts trying keys in the lock. “But English won’t be handing out any more detentions.”
You feel a bile fascination, a temptation to look, but you think better of it and stay away. When you glance at Dave his mouth is a hard line.

“Do you want to borrow my phone to check on Dirk?”

You know the offer will rile him up the moment it’s out your mouth. “Bro? You serious? That dude eats zombies for breakfast.”

You bite your lip and jiggle on the balls of your feet. Every small noise sounds like a zombie coming round the corner. You’re a nervous wreck.

“Your grandpa’ll be fine,” he says suddenly.

“Wh- Oh. Right. I know.” The infection won’t have spread to the island yet. It won’t ever spread, most likely. You make a mental note of that in case things get any worse.

As you think that, things rapidly get worse.

A gang of zombies appears on your left. Their speed increases when they notice you and Dave like sitting ducks in the corridor. As you ready your chair to defend Dave you catch movement in the corner of your eye and see another group shambling towards you from the other end of the corridor. You’re trapped and surrounded, and it’s less than a minute until they reach you.

“Zombies,” you say quietly.

“I know.” His movements with the keys are becoming more frantic. You can’t help thinking he could be missing some. There’s a guttural groan from your left that the rest of the horde soon takes up and Dave fumbles. The keys clatter to the floor.

You grab them and rifle through them. One has a green tag and you shove it into the lock. Dave whacks a zombie and you hear a squelchy sound. Another zombie gets past him and claws at your backpack before Dave knocks it away. You jiggle the key desperately and then the door gives way. You scramble inside the office and drag Dave after you, then slam the door.

The two of you stare at each other, eyes wide. You can still hear them moaning.

After recollecting yourself you start rifling through drawers looking for the firearm. Eventually you realise it’s probably locked up. You grab the keys from where you dropped them on the desk and see Dave holding something in his hands, looking puzzled.

“What’s that?” Your bag’s open. “You went in my bag?”

“It was broken ‘cause of the zombies. What’s this?” He’s holding a CD. You know every track on it.

You start trying to unlock various cabinets. “What does it look like?”

“Looks like a CD with my name on it. It looks very much like that. It is so like that that when they make movies about cloning they will be based on my true story. It is like, the twin brother or a CD with my name on it, separated at birth, only now coming into the story because the original brother died and twins are useful for shit. You could even say it is a CD with my name on it. Why do you have a CD with my name on it?”

Now is really not the best time to be having this conversation. Still, the CD does need explaining. You take a moment to think about how you’re going to frame this one and in the meantime find the firearm. It’s unloaded, but there are two boxes of ammo. You grin and start loading it. “I was going to give it to you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know that! I was going to ask you out, alright! It’s a CD of music I’ve composed. Some of it’s stuff we did together but mostly it’s my own work. I thought I would give it to you and ask you on a date.”

By this point you’ve fully loaded the gun. You stand with it and don’t fail to notice Dave’s tiny flinch. The other box of ammunition goes in your bag, along with the CD.

“It’d be pretty brave of you to ask me out,” he says.

You shrug. “Your crush on me is really obvious, Dave!”

He splutters. “I’m not obvious. I don’t do crushes.”

“Keep telling yourself that! We’re going to have to fight our way out, you ready?”

“Wait. No.” You raise an eyebrow at him. He’s almost blushing. “We’re in serious danger here. This could be the last time we’re safe and, uh, alone, together, for a while.”

You fight back a giggle which would be inappropriate on several counts. “That’s true.”

“So I guess… while we’re alone together…”

You put the gun down on the desk, cut to the chase and kiss him. He gasps softly in surprise but pulls you closer. His fingers tangle in your hair and you allow your hands to settle on his waist. You can still hear the zombies outside and somewhere not too far away some kids are screaming, but it feels like there is a bubble of quiet around you.

The kiss lasts longer than it probably should given that there are zombies outside. It is a good kiss.

When you stop there is a breathless moment. He smiles sheepishly. You don’t want to let go of him, but the groans outside incentivise you, though, and you manage to pick up your gun. Dave casts around for a better weapon and finds a trophy baseball bat made of heavy, dark wood.

“Let’s rock this thing,” he says.

THIS IS THE MOST PERFECT THING I HAVE SEEN IN A LONG TIME! OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!!

Wow. Dang. Thank you for a fantastic fill.

Yes I shall try to do this! ;u ;

ahh this is terrific!! thank you for writing it -u-

*FLAILS*
I AM GLAD YOU LIKE IT!

i probably spent way more time than was anywhere near required but i need the background practice! this is a little light on the 'magical' part but i hope it's what you wanted!

jade's makin her move on that birdboy. i'm gonna put a larger version on tumblr, i'll link it here once i do u_u

I tried, I hope this is what you wanted!

---

There comes a moment in the life of a man wherein he is faced with a good ol’ adventure.

Many lesser men think themselves hotshots until that moment arrives, wisenheimers who brag around foolishly, thinking that they would be able to take on mountains if they had the chance to.

When that time comes, the moment hauling ass towards them, they falter, waggling around like they suddenly lost all their smarts, and end up showing what they truly are –chickens.

As opposed to them, when confronted with the chance to go and have a big bang somewhere –or should I daresay, sometime– I did not hesitate, held the chance tight in my hands, and took a step into the dark.

My name is Jake English, and this is the story of my meeting with the Guardian of Time.

–––

The island was quiet, and Jake was overly bored; no creature had appeared to bother him for quite some time, the rations had arrived in time and nothing was missing, and once again he had nothing to do but watch movies on his computer all day.

Despite the alluring prospect, for once the thought of spending hours on end to watch whatever movie he had at his disposal –any movie, he liked them all, really– wasn’t as satisfying as it could be on any other day.

The fact was, Jake was a man of action –or, rather, a teen– and being coped up too long, no matter if in the company of cinematography of epic beauty, made him feel like he was wasting his time.

He had lived all his life on this small island, somewhere in the ocean, far from civilization despite his stable internet connection and relatively advanced technology, and was starting to feel like the world was bigger than that.

He wanted to travel, and see the world.

Picturing the many adventures he could have if only he left the island was his favourite pastime, more appealing than any movie with enticing blue women, more appealing than whatever creature could make its way to his house.

Still, he had never left his home, held back by the feeling that it wasn’t time yet. Something big was going to come, at some point in his life, and if he left before that moment, he would miss that chance, and forever regret it…

And Jake didn’t want to have any regrets in life.

Still pondering whether to go back into his room and maybe chat with one of his online friends, or instead grab his faithful pistols and go find himself some quest, Jake didn’t even notice the figure walking uphill towards him, until he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat right in front of him.

Jake was startled out from his thoughts and blinked, shocked when he realised he was staring right into someone’s eyes –or better then, someone’s shades.

“Holy mackerel!” he exclaimed, pushing his glasses back up and taking a step back. “I didn’t even hear you coming, chum! You’re a silent one alright”.

The guy –a teen probably around his age, Jake noted– raised one eyebrow above the shades’ line.

Jake took a moment to observe him, feeling somewhat bothered by how he had allowed him to get this close without even noticing; it wasn’t often someone stopped by his island, and usually they were people from the mail service.

The newcomer didn’t look like he belonged to any sort of post service, nor was he dressed like a tourist would; he had an attire of various shades of red, and even had a cape on, which was quite weird to him.

He had a mop of carefully braided blond hair, and a good part of his face was, as previously stated, hidden away by a pair of aviator shades that Jake found rather familiar –he was almost sure some actor wore a pair of very similar ones in one of the movies he had watched.

“Sup?” the teen said, voice perfectly monotone as he lifted one hand up in a salute.

“Uh, hey,” Jake scratched his head. “I wasn’t expecting anyone for at least a month, what brings you by my humble abode?”

The teen stared at him, then he tilted his head. “Let me make sure, what year is this?”

“Uh… 2004?” Jake replied, frowning.

“That’s what I thought, but with your stylish lingo, I thought we were back in the seventies,” the teen shrugged. “You Jake English, right?”

“Yes, that’s my name,” a little bit affronted at the quip, as he prided himself to be a gentleman of speech just as much as he was skilled with his pistols, Jake pointed at the weirdly dressed teen with a finger. “It is only congenial for you to offer your name as well as a reason for your presence here”.

The teen’s lips twitched into a small smirk. “Name’s Dave,” he answered, easily bypassing his surname. “As for why I’m here, I was strolling by this timestream and decided why the fuck not, it’s been a while”.

Jake blinked. “Er, you are a weird chap,” he stated, honest as ever. “You been there before? I would remember seeing your face around”.

“Been here couple times, yeah,” Dave looked around, eyes still hidden behind his shades. “Be a good kid, where’s Jade at?”

The name took a moment to click. “Gosh, you knew my grandma?”

A flicker of something passed on Dave’s face –or on the part of his face that was visible, at least– and Jake watched as he froze. Then, slowly, the weird teen lifted one hand in the air, lips moving soundlessly.

It appeared like he was counting.

“Oh, right… it seems I approached the wrong moment,” he shrugged lightly. “I guess I’ll just step up and take my leave now. Places to go, things to see, sick rhymes to compose on the beat of Time itself, you know”.

Jake almost smiled –this Dave was weird, but amusing, and his tendency to rant reminded him of one of his internet friends.

Still, knowing he would have to give him bad news almost physically hurt him.

“Well, I don’t think you could see grandma even if you come at a later time,” he hastily called out as Dave turned around, ready to leave.

Dave froze.

“She is–” Jake stopped abruptly when Dave pushed his hand in front of his mouth, one finger almost touching his lips.

“Don’t say it,” there was a small vibration in Dave’s voice that made Jake’s words die before they could get out. “I get it”.

Jane<3Jake, stream of consciousness and myth

All of sudden, Jake found himself curious. Grandma Harley had died when he was just a kid, leaving him alone on the island, and Dave looked his age. It didn’t add up. “Say, how did you know my grandma?”

Dave turned to look at him again.

“She’s been my friend for a long time,” he replied, monotone. Then, almost as an afterthought, he smiled. Jake couldn’t see his eyes, but the smile felt a bit sad. “A knack for adventure and one hell of a bitch –in a good way, I assure you. Had her following me ‘round for a good decade or two”.

“Now I know you’re just pulling my leg,” Jake grunted, hands planted on his hips. “You can’t be older than me by a single day, how could you have been pals with my grandma for decades?”

The smile stretched into a smirk, and Dave straightened his back, managing to look far too smug, even if he was shorter than Jake by at least two inches.

“I am a Guardian of Time,” he stated, pressing one thumb on his chest.

Jake opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, and closed it again. “What?”

“Guardian of Time. Keeper of the Gates of Clockwork, and a lot of other names,” Dave supplied helpfully. “That’s all me”.

“You mean for real?” eyes wide, Jake stared with newfound interest at the visitor. “How did you get on my island?”

“Stepping through the flows of Time, how else?” completely unperturbed by Jake’s shock, Dave mimicked a step forwards. “I know exactly when and where I want to go, easier than laying down some sick beats, bro”.

Instantly, Jake pounced, invading Dave’s space in his haste to get a closer look. This was not a silly, maybe dangerous kid anymore –this was legit!

“So what, are you The Doctor?”

“Doctor Who?” Dave deadpanned.

“That was a horrible joke,” Jake commented, shaking his head, but even the pun didn’t make his excitement fade at all. “So, are you?”

“Of course I am, I left my Tardis parked right in the woods down there,” Dave pointed at the forest behind him with a thumb. “Not going to go anywhere without me”.

Dave allowed himself a second to appreciate the way Jake’s eyes grew even larger, looking almost ready to burst into a thousand million fragments of pure excitement before he lifted one hand up.

“Bro, calm down. I’m kidding,” he snorted at the other teen. “Doctor Who is fiction, nothing but a TV–show. Jeez, you’re such a loser, believing everything I tell you”.

Jake deflated, staring at Dave with a tinge of anger. “Does that mean all you said was a dirty lie?”

“No man, I’m the real deal here, package including time travelling and all that cool shit,” Dave assured.

“Well, what if I don’t believe you now?” he huffed. His pride had been hit where it hurt. “Don’t go selling me woof tickets, mister,” he decided to add for a good measure.

“That is where I either tell you about my adventures on the beats of a rap, words as fresh and cutting as a double edged sword, or I give you proof,” Dave chuckled. “Let Time Roll”.

There was no flicker in the air, no flash of light like in one of Jake’s favourite movies, no world turning on its axis –but suddenly another Dave stepped through air, coming to a stop right next to the one Jake had been talking with.

“Holy–” backing out in shock, Jake observed the two Daves with eyes as wide as saucers, glasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose. “How did you…”

Both Daves turned to look at him, the same smirk on their identical faces.

“Time Tricks, bro, the usual for me, one step here and you get to prehistory, one step too far and all the futures lay at my feet, basking in my cool presence,” the first Dave stated smugly.

“Spinning and weaving time with my fingers, best job in the world,” the second Dave continued, although his voice had a haunted tone that wasn’t lost on Jake.

“Did I burn away all your silly resistance now?” both Daves commented.

Jake nodded wildly, hands clenched into fists as a wave of excitement ran through his body. “Sure you did old chap!”

The first Dave turned to the second and offered him a fist, which the second Dave gave a bump to; then, the Dave Jake had been talking with until then made a mock–wave and stepped backwards.

Just like that, he was gone.

“That was –so far out I can’t believe it’s happening right here!” Jake grabbed one of Dave’s hands, holding it tightly. “What other things can you do?!”

Although surprised at the sudden contact, Dave kept the smirk on his face and shook his head. “You’re nothing like him,” he murmured, patting Jake’s arm with his free hand.

“Huh? Nothing like who?”

“The guy who gave me these,” Dave pointed at his shades. “Originals, too, Ben Stiller wore them on his big sweaty nose”.

“Ow, yucky man,” Jake wrinkled his nose. “Those look kind of tacky anyway, you positive they’re originals?”

With a tap on the side of the lens, Dave nodded. “Ironic as hell and equally original, yes. Jade’s… it was a gift from your grandma’s bro”.

Jake blinked in shock at him. He hadn’t been able to meet any of his grandma’s family members before she had died, and none of them had ever visited –they probably didn’t even know where he was– but Grandma Jade always had heart-warming stories about her brother.

“Good man, also travelled with me for a while. Had a good grasp on wind, the guy,” once again, Jake detected a flicker of sadness passing on Dave’s face.

Fumbling with his words, he tightened his grip on the other teen’s hand and tugged. “You gotta tell me everything about your jolly adventures, I say!”

Dave paused for a moment, resisting Jake as he tried to drag him towards his house.

“Man, as much as I like talking about my rad exploits, I don’t think a man of adventure like you would be satisfied with that, hmm?” Dave tapped Jake’s shoulder, then pushed him off, only to offer him his hand again. “What do you say, English? Want to hop onto the Time Train for a while?”

Jake didn’t even have to think about it.

He batted the offered hand away and stomped up to Dave, ignoring his slightly surprised face and wrapping his arm around the other teen’s shoulders.

“I daresay you have yourself a new companion,” he commented, smiling. “Just let me go and grab my pistols then I’m set to go!”

Snorting despite himself, Dave watched as Jake pulled away, hurrying down the path leading to his house and turning around every few steps to make sure Dave was actually following him.

True to his words, the only thing Jake took was his pair of guns, securing them to his sides and staring expectantly at Dave, waiting for instructions.

“If you don’t have a Tardis, mighty Time Guardian, how do you move around?” he asked as Dave made his way back outside.

“A skateboard,” was the deadpan reply.

Jake stumbled slightly, having not expected such an answer. “Uh, I’m sorry?”

“What? It’s highly ironic,” Dave commented, smirking. “But if you’re hesitant to take such an innovative machine, I guess I could find something suitable to your tastes”.

“What about a–”

“No, not a DeLorean”.

“Aww, bummer”.

“I guess you’ll have to settle for an equally ironic pony”.

“You’re shitting me, Dave, are you?”

Dave simply smirked, and held out his hand again.

Without hesitation, Jake grabbed it.

Looking forwards, Dave counted down the seconds, stepped forwards–

–and then they were gone.

–––

Between all the tomfoolery and adventures I have partaken in with the company of one Guardian of Time, namely Dave, that first encounter has been, despite its lack of perils, the one I still remember the most vividly.

I have been at his side for many years, and still remain, as far as I know, one of the few to know his full name.

I left a life of boredom, the confines of an island I knew like the back of my hand, to follow Dave through time and time again, and insofar, I have yet to regret it.

My adventures with him have not yet concluded, and if Time is on our sides, which I know it will be, many more still await, ready and ripe for me to take.

I am glad to have taken my chance in both hands, and I still hold it tightly, unwilling to let it go. I have been granted not just a never-ending supply of adventures, but a mate to enjoy them with.

Time moves on, and with it, so does he. And at his side, so do I.

Jake English

---

Jake's speech style is HARD, man.

ok here it is on tumblr. it's a little bigger there.

Feferi<3Jade

Magic Girl+ High school fic

Haha, aw, thank you!

"She lay there as still and as silent as the grave, and as cold as loneliness."

I can't

Dave<3Rose: Slow Dancing+End of the World

Too late to ask for psychedelic+trickster Davesprite<>Brobot???

Sorry for the late reply </3 Either way, oh dear, thanks for the comment <3

I'm glad you were able to enjoy it, even with the obvious 'downfalls'!

/hugs you

Tavros<>Aradia. Adventure + Comedy

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BONUS ROUND 1

Bonus Round 1

PROMPT: TEAM JADE<3KARKAT

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Re: FILL: TEAM [Dave<3<Karkat]

FILL: Team Rose<3Kanaya

FILL: TEAM Dave<3<Karkat<3Terezi<3Dave

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Re: FILL: TEAM [Dave<3<Karkat]

FILL: TEAM JOHN<3DAVESPRITE

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PROMPT: TEAM ERIDAN<3Sollux

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PROMPT: TEAM [Equius<>Nepeta]